


I Remember You

by leftdragonpainter



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Injury, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Kid Dean Winchester, Kid Fic, One Shot, Pre-Slash, mentions of abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-05
Updated: 2018-09-05
Packaged: 2019-07-07 09:35:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15905643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leftdragonpainter/pseuds/leftdragonpainter
Summary: A young Dean tries to run away but has his mind changed by a blue eyed stranger.*Based off a prompt by VampAmber





	I Remember You

**Author's Note:**

> Was able to write this in one day guys. Mainly did it to help cure the writer's block weighing me down.  
> Comments, kudos and yada yada ya know...  
> Gabi  
> <3<3<3

Castiel, Angel of Thursday and garrison leader, gazed down from his perch. He remained hidden from any and all earthbound perception. Quickly he located the human child, as he always did when he had time to spare from his heavenly duties. Even with the frequency the child’s family moved around the country, Castiel always found him. God had commanded, not long after the Morningstar fell, that this child would one day be the Righteous Man, following the path that He had laid out for him.

Secretly though, Castiel wondered why Dean had to suffer as much as he did before even reaching adulthood. At barely twelve the child had already faced down more monsters than most of the seasoned hunters in North America. When his father John was absent -and even when he was present- it was up to Dean to keep both he and his younger brother fed and cared for. It was a lot for such a young man to bear.

Even at such a young age, Dean’s pure soul shone brightly.

And so, Castiel watched.

*****

Dean waited, one eye open as he lay under the covers. The blanket smelt stale, a mixture of cigarettes and old booze. It had clearly been a while since the cheap motel had bothered to launder it. It had taken almost the entire bottle of Jack this time for John to finally pass out. Dean breathed a sigh of relief as he realized that John had fallen into oblivion for the night.

Using the better side of caution he waited a few more minutes before sliding from the bed. He had to be careful not to wake up Sammy. One look from the kid and Dean’s plan would fall to the wayside.

But he couldn’t put it off any longer.

Grabbing the bag he had packed the week before, he hissed a little in pain. He snuck from the room, staying low to the ground, careful not to jostle his arm. It wasn’t until he was outside and across the street from the motel that Dean began to breathe easier. Hitching his bag more securely over his shoulders, he ran.

His father’s most recent hunt hadn’t gone the way he had planned. Dean knew people had been lost this time. Dean knew because that was when John drank the most. It was also when he took out his anger on Dean. Never on Sammy, oh no. Sammy he treated like a son. Dean was his soldier first and foremost. If shit went wrong it was Dean’s fault.

This time he was sure that John had broken his arm. That’s what it felt like anyway. He had to steal a couple of ace bandages from John’s first aid pack. Sammy helped wrap the arm to Dean’s chest. The kid was already too proficient at patching up hunter wounds, Dean thought sadly.

If he could have, Dean would have taken his baby brother with him. The kid was too small to protect himself from what was out there in the world, and Dean knew that even as well trained as he was, there was going to be issues defending even himself.

He didn’t know how long he had been running by the time he finally stopped. He took a moment to see where he was. The rusty swing set shifted as a sudden wind sent the blue plastic seats flailing wildly. The seesaw rose and fell, the wood smacking the worn dirt hard. The back of Dean’s hair lifted as his instincts kicked in. Someone, _something_ , was watching him.

“Who’s there?”

*****

Castiel had watched in abject anger as John Winchester hurt his own son, blaming him for his own failures.

Castiel had watched as the littlest Winchester tried his best to fix up his brother, even though everyone involved could see Dean needed to go to the hospital. The love between the brothers was so bright that is was easily seen from heaven. Castiel thanked his Father that the pair at least had each other in times like this..

Then the angel watched in shock as Dean left the hotel room in the middle of the night. The young boy tried with all his might not to look back at his brother. He was running away, Castiel realized.

Michael would not be pleased if his Sword veered from the path set for him.  

Disregarding protocol, he descended to earth for the first time in over a hundred years. A quick global search later, barely taking a full minute of time, he found his current vessel sleeping in a state nearby. The vessel, Jimmy Novak, was barely more than a child himself, only just 16. Castiel could see that the vessel wasn’t quite strong enough to hold him for very long yet, but the potential for being one of the strongest ever was there.

After speaking with the teen in his dream, Castiel made a promise to only use his vessel for a few hours. Castiel had to explain the urgency of the situation. How he needed to save a young child from heading down the wrong path by running away from his destiny.

*****

Jimmy had been able to sense the angel’s panic in his need to save this future ‘Righteous Man’. Clearly there was something special about this child.

So he said, “Yes.”

*****

“Who are you?” Dean asked. Even with the broken arm, his stance went into defense mode.

A teenager stepped out from the shadows. He wore only a tee and pajama bottoms. Definitely not human, Dean thought. The teen tilted his head, intense blue eyes staring at Dean for a moment before stepping forward.

“What the hell do you want?” Dean glared, taking a step back. For the first time thinking that it may have been a bad idea leaving his family.

“You’re hurt.” The boy said, eyes going to Dean’s arm.

“No duh, Sherlock.”

“It’s dangerous to be out here by yourself. You should be home with your family.” Castiel remained still after seeing how wary Dean was about him.

“It’s no business of your’s where I should be weirdo.” Whoever, whatever, this creature was, Dean got the feeling he wasn’t there to harm him. “Where’s your shoes? It’s too cold to be outside without clothes on.”

Castiel glanced down at his vessel. Confused, he tilted his head. “I am clothed.”

“Those are pajamas dude. You should wear real clothes ya know?” Feeling tired, more than just in his bones, all the way down to his soul, Dean moved to sit over on the swings. He only flinched a little when the being sat on the swing beside him. “I’m running away,” he said out of nowhere.

“Is that wise?” Castiel asked. He knew he could simply fly Dean back to his father and brother, but that wouldn’t do much to stop him from trying this again.

Dean explained what had happened, what his father tended to do. He was surprised that the being listened. Despite the initial scare the creature had yet to try anything. For some reason Dean almost felt safe beside him.

“If you leave though, what exactly is stopping your father from doing the same to your brother? What happens to him without you there to watch over him?” Castiel asked. He wasn’t comfortable playing that card, but seeing the realization cross Dean’s young face, it was clear that it was necessary.

The transformation from dejection to determination was something utterly beautiful to witness. It wasn’t like anything Castiel had ever seen before in his entire existence. In that moment, beyond all expectation, Dean soul brightened. It was blinding, but Castiel couldn’t look away.

“I guess you’re right.” Dean stood up, readjusting his bag. He would deny for a long time the whimper that escaped his lips from the movement.  Blinding pain shot up his arm.

Castiel had briefly forgotten about the damage to Dean’s body. Knowing that he would already be in trouble with Zachariah when he returned, there was nothing stopping him from reaching out to heal the young Winchester. He touched two fingers to the arm, sending a pulse of grace through him.

Dean stumbled back, and looked at the older boy in awe. “What are you? Who are you?”

Castiel remained silent. Reaching out again, he tapped his fingers to Dean’s head, sending him back home to the motel room.

*****

**_18 years later…_ **

 

“Who are you?” Dean’s lip raised in anger. Bobby was passed out on the floor. Whatever this thing was had knocked him out with only a touch. A slight tingle ran through his memory. Dean just brushed it aside.

“I am Castiel,” the man said almost humbly. The blue eyed man didn’t blink, keeping eye contact.

“Yeah. But what are you?” Dean wanted answers.

“I’m the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition.” Castiel allowed himself to be stabbed by the hunter. He needed Dean to learn who he was, finally know him after all these years.

Dean stared at him, watching as this _Castiel_ dropped the knife to the ground. The knife that had previously been in his chest. There was something so familiar about him. The weirdness, the hair, those damn blue eyes…

_Sonofabitch!_

“It’s you, isn’t it?” Dean took a step closer. “That weirdo from when I was a kid.”

Castiel nodded.

“For the longest time, I thought that was a dream. I mean, how else could I explain having a broken arm suddenly healed? What _are_ you man?” Dean asked again.

Castiel stepped into Dean’s personal space.

“I’m an angel of the Lord. And we have work for you.”


End file.
